The Gardener
by passionately-curious
Summary: After the death of her sister, Katniss moves away from her old life into an abandoned house. There she meets a young gardener who becomes her only friend and confidant. But there is more than meets the eye to this mysterious young man. Trigger warnings: major character death - but there is a HEA :) Written for Round 5 Day 3: Queen Anne's Lace "Fantasy"


Katniss didn't hesitate putting an offer down on the old, abandoned house on the other side of the country. It had been a week since her baby sister, Prim, was killed while trying to administer first aid to a stranger on the side of the road. She held on for a day or two, but her injuries were too substantial and eventually her body gave out. Katniss knew she should feel bad for her mother, having to plan the second funeral for her immediate family, but she couldn't. Prim was everything to Katniss. When she died, Katniss lost more than just a sister, she lost a piece of herself. It was the closest she came to understanding the grief her mother experienced after her father's death. It was enough to finally close her heart to love for good.

Everywhere Katniss went in town, she was reminded of her baby sister. Everyone wanted to express their condolences or ask how she was doing or share their own stories about Primrose. Katniss wanted nothing to do with them and their memories, she was suffocating under the weight of her own. After the funeral, Katniss impulsively searched online for a way to start over. She was pulled in by a white Greek revival cottage, nestled away from the rest of the neighborhood, backed against a thicket of trees, with only one other house nearby.

Her boss made arrangements allowing her to work from home. She told no one else about her plans to leave; one night, she just left. Left her family and friends and life. Left her memories and scars and pain and ghosts. She was prepared to start fresh.

The first time Gale called her cell phone, she ignored him. It wasn't fair of her to abandon him the way she did. He was her best friend and just as much a brother to Prim as his own siblings, but Katniss didn't have the energy to talk to him. He'd ask her to come home or if he could come visit her, neither of which she wanted. They both needed time the heal from the loss of Primrose Everdeen and she knew he couldn't do that if he was constantly reminded of her. The longer she ignored his calls, the less frequently he made them. And just like that, he stopped trying.

She passed the time in the woods behind her house. Some days, she'd climb the trees and spend hours sitting among the branches. Other days, she'd explore the plant life, taking samples back to the house. Her favorite days were the ones she felt strong enough to take her father's bow out to hunt. When she hauled back the game, she'd spy her neighbor watching her intently. He was unkempt, with stringy dark hair, red-rimmed eyes, and a paunchy stomach, but he left her alone.

Katniss would always remember the morning she met the man who would change her forever.

It was a sunny spring morning. The winter freeze had finally thawed completely and the first of the songbirds returned. She filled her coffee mug, stirring in enough cream and sugar to diffuse the bitter drink, and stepped out onto her back porch. She nearly missed him the first time and if it hadn't been for the sound of the shovel digging into the dirt, she wouldn't have looked twice. But there he was: muscular arms, ash-blond hair that fell in waves over his face. His cheeks were flushed and already sweat was running down his pale skin. When he paused to wipe his forehead, she called out to him. "What are you doing in my yard?"

"Excuse me?" His head snapped in her direction, eyes fixated on her.

She waved her free hand in front of her. "You're in my yard. Working in my garden. Why?"

He studied her for a moment. "I'm sorry. I…I didn't realize anyone lived here anymore."

"So why are you planting flowers in an abandoned garden?"

"I've been taking care of the yard since the last owner," he shrugged, "I guess it's just habit."

She chewed on her lower lip, his blue eyes standing out dramatically against his pale features. He seemed harmless enough, she supposed. And it wasn't like she had any intentions of planting flowers. She liked nature but was never one for taming it. She nodded and turned back into the house, leaving him to finish his work. She went about her day, sitting up in her office, but found herself checking on him through the window. She went back down to the kitchen to make dinner and saw that the man, along with any indication of his presence, had disappeared. All he left behind was a fresh layer of dirt where dead plants had been the day before.

The next morning, when she went downstairs for her cup of coffee, he was once again working in the garden. And by the time she ate dinner, he was gone. Everyday the same, he was there in the morning and gone by the evening.

* * *

"Do you want something to drink?"

He was on his knees with a trivet, digging small holes for the first round of flowers, sweat soaking through his t-shirt on this surprisingly warm day. He sat back on his ankles and wiped his face. "I'm okay. Thank you, though."

Her lips twisted. "Well if you want to come in…get out of the heat…if you want…"

His smile was beautiful. If she were in any position to want someone, his smile would work in his favor. "I appreciate it." He stood up, wiping the dirt from his hands onto his jeans. She ducked her head and headed inside, hearing his footsteps following behind her.

"How are you liking the place?" He asked once inside.

"It's nice. And, uh, quiet."

"Most people don't like that about it."

She shrugged. "I'm not most people."

There was that smile again, a little half one this time. "I can tell. What brought you out here?"

She bit the inside of her cheek. "I just…I needed to start over. Get away from…from everything. So I found this place and just moved."

"You left your family behind? Your friends?"

"I don't really have a family. Not anymore," she admitted, leaning against the counter. "And…I'm not really that great at making friends so none of it was that big of a deal, I suppose."

"Everyone should have friends, someone they can rely on." He held her gaze with an uncomfortable familiarity, a look she couldn't shake. "I can be your friend. If you want." He laughed at the look on her face. "What? I'll have you know I am an excellent friend."

"I don't even know your name."

"It's Peeta. Peeta Mellark. And you are…"

"Katniss Everdeen."

"Well, Katniss Everdeen," he said, pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning on. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"You too, Peeta," she replied, her lips twitching upward into a smile.

Katniss began spending more and more of her days outside with Peeta in the garden. It turned out, once Peeta decided you were his friend, he would do most of the talking in the conversation, which suited her just fine. Is was as if he could sense when he was coming close to too sensitive of a topic for her liking and would change the topic without missing a beat.

"Peeta?"

"Hmm?" He had been pulling weeds in the front garden when she realized he had been at her house everyday since the winter thaw.

"Don't you have a job? I mean…what do you do for money?"

He stilled, his fingers gripped around the invasive plant. "I make due with what I have. I don't have much need for money. It…" he sighed. "Money changes people, Katniss. I became someone I never wanted to become when it was right in front of me. So one day, I just gave everything up."

"And you're happier without?" Growing up, her family was dirt poor. Her father's insurance policy did little to help a single mother with debilitating depression keep a roof over their heads. Katniss learned how to stretch everything she owned to the point of breaking. She could never imagine going back to the point of giving everything up, it was too painful to watch her sister's face hallow down to near nothing and not be able to do anything about it.

"Yeah. For the most part. Giving it up was a release of sorts."

She considered that, unsure if she'd ever be able to give up her hard-earned money and go back to her childhood environment. Peeta made it sound like a positive experience, something that made him grow, but she still couldn't wrap her brain around how he could be something he never wanted to be.

"What's your favorite color?"

"What?" His question caught her off guard. They had been silent for the majority of the day, Katniss having brought her laptop outside to work along side Peeta.

He grinned. "Your favorite color. What is it?"

"Oh, um, green," she answered, looking off toward the trees. "You?"

"Orange. That orange." He pointed to the skyline, a rich mixture of reds and pinks and yellows. "Sunset was always my favorite time of day. I hated the night but the time right as the sun was setting? There was just something about it that always made me feel alive."

"I've never really looked at sunsets," Katniss admitted.

"You should. They really are beautiful."

"Maybe you should stay and enjoy them with me."

"Maybe I will."

* * *

During one of Peeta's breaks, Katniss made the mistake of checking her mail. Amid the stack of bills and junk mail was a thick envelope addressed to "Miss Katniss Everdeen." She opened it and felt her throat constrict at the contents inside. "Mrs. Hawthorne and Mr. and Mrs. Undersee would like to invite you the union of their children, Gale Hawthorne and Madge Undersee in holy matrimony."

"Who are they?" Peeta asked, sitting next to her on the porch step. "Friends from back home?"

She nodded, stuffing the invitation back into the envelope. "Yeah. Uh Gale was, he was my best friend. I haven't heard from him since I moved out here."

"Why?"

Katniss rolled her eyes. "He tried to call at first but couldn't talk to him. It was too painful."

Peeta sucked in a breath. "Did you two date or something?"

She scoffed. "Oh, God, no. Nothing like that. My sister died."

He turned toward her. "What?"

"My sister, Prim, she died almost a year ago. Right before I moved here. Gale was…we were best friends, he was like a brother to me and Prim. So after she died, seeing him reminded me of what I lost and it was too much to deal with. So I…I left. I ran away from it all in the middle of the night and wound up here. Alone. And now," she tossed the invitation to the ground, "he's getting married."

Peeta picked up the invitation, running his fingers over the fancy type. "You should go to the wedding."

She scoffed, refusing to cry over the fact that anyone was able to move on past Prim. "That wouldn't be good. I doubt he really wants to deal with me."

"He invited you."

"That's a formality." A tear slipped past her defenses, caught by Peeta's thumb. A chill ran through her body at his touch and he pulled away quickly.

"Katniss, I lost everyone I loved and I would have given anything to have one more chance to make it up to them. This is your chance to make things better with him. And it'll probably do you some good, too."

She sniffed. "Maybe. Would you want to come with me?"

"I don't know, Katniss," he teased, "people may talk about us."

"So what."

His smile dropped at her implication. They had known each other and been growing significantly closer over the summer and into fall. "I'm shit at weddings."

"I doubt that."

He sighed. "Katniss, you know I'm here for you. But I really think this is something you have to do on your own. It'll be better that way." She nodded, feeling slightly rejected until he bumped her knee with his. "When you get back, we'll celebrate. Just us, deal?"

"Fine," she huffed, a smile playing at her lips.

Madge was the most beautiful bride Katniss had ever seen. She sat in the back of the church, trying to avoid making a scene, but the moment Madge caught her out of the corner of her eye, Katniss knew her cover was blown. She could hear the catch in her friend's voice, saw the slight stumble in her step as she walked past her. Madge recovered, which no one else seemed to notice, and Katniss watched as the wedding continued without a hitch.

Gale was as handsome as ever as he led his new bride into the reception hall. Katniss couldn't remember the last time she saw a smile so genuine on her best friend's face. Her guilt for leaving him diminished as she watched them greet their guests; clearly he had found a life that was better than it ever was before. He was happy now, happier than she could ever remember him being in the past. She knew when Madge informed Gale of her presence because he instantly turned and spotted her.

"Catnip!" He exclaimed, all but running toward her.

She let herself be swept up in his arms as he embraced her. "Hey, Gale. Congratulations."

"I didn't know you were coming!" He set her down and motioned for Madge to join them. Katniss put her hand on his arm.

"Wait," she said quietly. "Can we talk first?"

As she drove home from the wedding, all she could think about was Peeta. That she missed him. That she wished he had been there. That he was wrong. Seeing Gale and Madge happy together didn't make things better. Gale understood what Katniss was doing, he didn't hold it against her, he was just glad to see her again. He and Madge starting hanging out more after the move and realized they had more in common than anyone would have guessed. It was a whirlwind romance between the two but they helped one another heal and grow in ways no one else ever had before. Katniss was happy for them.

But she felt miserable about herself. Everyone else was able to move past the death of Primrose. Gale even said her mother was doing well, nothing like when her father died. It was just Katniss, it seemed, who couldn't deal. Only Katniss had to isolate herself from everyone she knew just to start feeling better. Seeing everyone so happy made her feel broken. Like there was something wrong with her. When she got home, she headed straight for bed and stayed under the covers, ignoring her nagging conscious that Peeta may be outside looking for her. She didn't want to see Peeta. She didn't want to see anyone.

In her dreams, she sees Prim; her darling, sweet, loving Prim, and she's happy. They both are. Like they always were together. Prim was the only person Katniss was ever certain she loved in a completely selfless way. They're in Katniss' new backyard, Prim is laying in the flowers, pretending to hide in them the way she did when she was a child in the meadow near their old house. She's giggling and Katniss is pretending she can't find her baby sister. But soon the giggling is replaced with the sharp scraping sounds of metal on metal. Katniss reaches for her sister but she's being dragged under the ground, being buried beneath the soft dirt and beautiful flowers and Katniss can't do anything to save her. Still the metal scrapes on and on.

She wakes with a start, her skin soaked from sweat, her heart racing, her ears tuned into the scraping sound outside her window. She pulls her robe from the door and runs down the stairs. She pulls up short when she sees him. The flowers that he worked so hard on all summer and scattered around. He has dug them all up, removed them from her yard. In a wheelbarrow beside him are five scraggly bushes. Yellow flowers adorn the plant. Yellow Evening Primrose flowers. "What are you doing?"

"I went to the woods this morning," he said. "I thought they might make you feel better to have them around." He stuck his shovel in the ground and turned to her, taking in her disheveled appearance. "I can take them back if you want-"

"No!" She cried, stepping off the porch toward him. "No I don't want you to take them back. I don't want you to take any of this back." She caught him off guard when she flung her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. He recovered quickly, dropping the shovel and easily wrapping his arms around her waist. Their kiss deepened, neither one caring that the crotchety neighbor may catch them. He pulled her close and she gasped at the feel of his length pressing against her. Simultaneous chills and fire pulsed through her veins. She was hungry. She wanted more.

It was the only word she could articulate. "More."

They stumbled back up the porch and into the house, never breaking contact. It amazed Katniss at his ability to lead her up the stairs into her bedroom with such ease but she refused to fight it. It was the first time she felt anything that wasn't tinged with sadness or loss or grief and she needed it. Her knees buckled when she was pushed against the soft mattress of her bed and she fell back, pulling him with her. His lips explored every exposed inch of her skin with such precision, dipping lower and lower as he pulled her robe open, exposing her body. Under normal circumstances she'd be embarrassed about being seen in only her panties, but his gaze made her feel safe, as if she were wearing the finest garments instead of plain cotton.

"More."

She stripped him of his shirt, her fingers running over the contours of his torso. She knew his arms were muscular but she hadn't imagined what the rest of him would look like. At least, she hadn't imagined he would be as impressive as he was. His pale skin was translucent in the dark bedroom and she took her time exploring every muscle and scar, wanting to know every piece of her gardner's story. He stilled her when she reached for the button on his jeans.

"Katniss," he breathed. "Are you-"

She raised her eyes to look at him. Blonde hair falling over his blue eyes full of concern and desire and love at the same time. She couldn't say anything, her voice was caught in her throat at the way he looked at her. Instead, she used her actions, pushing his hand aside and pulling his jeans and boxers down. He let out a soft sigh and she tried not to giggle.

"I've wanted you for so long," he told her, shifting her completely on the bed. "So, so long."

"I'm yours."

He ran his hands up her legs, hooking her panties around his fingers and pulling them down. She shuddered in anticipation and need. He rested between her legs and with one stroke pushed deep inside her. She moaned at the fullness, easing her body back into the rhythm of sex. He was beautiful as he moved above her, like her own angel sent down to help her. To fix her. All this time, she realized that's what he had been doing. He hadn't just been planting flowers in her garden, he had been planting seeds of hope in her heart. And love.

A sweaty mass of limbs the two collapsed hours later, completely spent from making each other shatter over and over. Peeta pulled her close to his chest, his chin resting on her shoulder, his lips next to her ear. "Katniss?"

"Hmm?"

"I know…I know we haven't known each other that long but…I love you. I love you, Katniss Everdeen."

As sleep, a restful and replenishing sleep, threatened to take her under, she was unable to mutter the words that were stamped across her once broken heart.

* * *

She awoke feeling as if she had slept for days. No nightmares plagued her slumber, no dreams at all. She stretched back and immediately recognized that Peeta was no where to be found. It was still light out, so she assumed he was back out in the garden. Fishing her robe from the floor, she slipped it on and treaded down to the back porch.

"Peeta?" She called, but he was no where to be seen. The primrose bushes, forgotten in their throes of passion, were expertly planted alongside the house, and all remnants of the previous flowers were gone. She frowned, a feeling of abandonment washing over her. As she turned to go back inside, she saw a vase of the yellow flowers on her kitchen table. Similarly, scattered around the house were vases of Evening Primrose flowers, bright yellow spots in her otherwise empty home.

Peeta didn't come back the next day. Or the day after. After a week, she finally broke down and marched over to her neighbor's house, wondering if she had seen the him. Even from outside, Katniss could smell the thick odor of booze and filth. Once the man opened the door, the smell only intensified.

"What?" he grumbled.

"Have you seen the gardner?"

The man stared at her, eyes narrow. "The who?"

She exhaled loudly. "The gardner. You know, the boy who's been here all summer? Blonde hair, blue eyes, about my age? Peeta?"

The man's already ashen face paled. "Peeta? You've…you've seen Peeta?"

Katniss rolled her eyes. "Yes. Peeta. I'm asking if you've seen him recently. He hasn't been around in a while and I've been worried…"

"You're the new owner of the house next door."

"If you're not going to be of any help then just say so," she snapped at him, tired of his drunken logic when she was just asking a simple question. She turned on her heels to march back when she heard him calling out to her again.

"Girl!" He came stumbling off his porch and grabbed her arm. "You've seen Peeta Mellark? At your house?"

She tried to wrench herself free but the old man had a surprisingly strong grasp. "Yes. What part of that can't you get through your alcohol-soaked brain?"

He studied her, then smirked. "And now he's gone. Well I'll be damned. I would never have guessed it'd be you."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He released her arm and clamored toward her house. "Come on, I'll show you something." He let himself in and stood in the doorway for a second, taking a deep breath with closed eyes. "What did you know about this house before you bought it?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. The realtor didn't really talk much about it's history, only that no one had lived in it for a while."

"A while is an understatement," he snorted. "Girl, no one has lived in here since the last owner killed himself. That was…over a hundred years ago."

"That's not even possible," she countered. "It was in perfect condition when I moved in."

He shook his head. "Of course the boy would keep it up. Follow me." He led her up the stairs into her bedroom, despite her protests. He opened her closet and pointed to a door on the ceiling. "Have you ever gone up there?"

She squinted in the dark, only barely able to make out the handle. "I didn't even know there was an 'up there.'"

He reached up and opened the door, revealing a pull down ladder. "Take a look." Katniss hesitantly climbed up the ladder into the dark attic, slightly concerned that the man could be trying to trap her up there. He climbed up after and easily found the light source. He shrugged, "it's just like mine."

Katniss looked around the dusty attic and gasped. It was full of paintings - ugly, gruesome, bloody paintings. There were children dying in each of them, some from swords or beasts, and others from dehydration or frostbite. Some were from the child's point of view, others from the killer, and some others looked as though she was watching a television still. "What the fuck are these?"

"They're mine."

She turned. Behind her stood Peeta, in the same jeans and t-shirt she remembered peeling off his skin days before. "Peeta? How did you get up here? What do you mean yours? What are these?"

But Peeta paid no attention to her questions. "You brought her up here, Haymitch?"

Haymitch nodded. "She deserved to know."

"Know what?" Katniss insisted. "How do you two know each other? What thehell is going on here?"

"Tell her, Boy," Haymitch insisted. "Tell her the truth."

Peeta sighed and walked toward Katniss. "You should sit for this." He glanced back over at Haymitch, who now wore a somber expression. "Over a hundred years ago, there were these…competitions. Games, they were called. Twenty-four children were pitted against each other every year and only one could survive. We had to kill them if we wanted to survive. And I…one year I was chosen and I won."

"You-"

He looked down at his feet. "I killed thirteen of my twenty-three competitors. I tried to make it painless for them, I wanted it to be quick for everyone. But I watched the life drain from thirteen children's eyes. I heard their last words. Their last sounds. I saw their last breaths. And then, after I won, I had to face their families, to be treated like some sort of hero in front of the mothers and fathers whose life and blood I took." His voice was distant, talking through a memory only he could see. "There were more than that Even when they weren't by my hand, I sent other children to kill children. Year after year and year, I…I prepared them. I mentored them. I sent them into that arena…they followed me everywhere I went. I couldn't get away from, them, I couldn't run far enough. I tried to paint them away, to get them out of my head but it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough. My family disowned me, I lost all my friends, I was a monster for allowing that to happen over and over and over again."

"No," she said, "no that's not true. No such thing exists, Peeta! I've never even heard of something like that."

"I don't know why or how or when it ended, but it did. And I was given an opportunity to finally be free, to let my soul rest and be forgiven for what I did. At least…" he finally looked up at him, his eyes red and brimming with unshed tears. "At least, I thought I did. I was told that if I could fall in love, and if someone could love me then I'd be free. But I don't expect you to love me after what I told you, especially if you didn't after we were together. So I left, and I'll stay gone. You'll never even know I'm here."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he disappeared, leaving Katniss and Haymitch alone in the attic. "I…I need some air," she announced, somehow making her way outside to her porch. Haymitch joined her a few minutes later, sitting beside her.

"He found some berries in the woods that he recognized from his Games. They're called Nightlock, they kill you as soon as their juices touch your tongue."

"He killed himself?"

"It was the only way he thought he could be of any use to those around him. There were no winners, Katniss, only survivors. And he…that boy was too good for what he was forced into. He was the only good person to ever make it out of there. Those he killed he did to ease their suffering. They were already dying and he ended them quickly, but never maliciously. For him, death was a welcomed relief. But he was punished for his act."

"That's why he's still here?" Katniss couldn't believe she was having this conversation. Not only was someone telling her that her gardener, friend, and lover was dead, but that he was a ghost, punished for killing himself because he killed children in some sick, twisted competition. It was too much to handle yet here she was, somehow making sense of the situation. "What was he talking about, though? About being free?"

"There are rules, apparently, to that sort of thing. Peeta was never unconditionally loved, it was the one thing he always craved, other than death. In order to achieve rest in death, he must be loved." Haymitch glanced over at her. "He loves you. He was hoping you'd love him back."

"What a stupid ass," she answered. "How could he not know that I do?"

Haymitch sighed. "Because I've only known you for a few hours and I can tell you're harder to read than ancient Egyptian, you stupid girl. And because he doesn't know what love looks like. Imagine if no one had ever told you they loved you."

His words sunk in deep. In all the time she and Peeta knew each other, he never once mentioned his family or any friends. She had been too busy dealing with her own loss to recognize it at the time. All the things he had been doing for her and she never once repaid him. Never told him how she felt or what it all meant. Of course he didn't know. She pushed herself off the steps and marched inside, slamming the door shut. "Peeta Mellark!" She shouted at the ceiling. "Peeta Mellark, come down here right now!"

"You don't have to shout."

She jumped, spinning around to where he stood behind her, still disheveled and empty-looking. "Stop doing that," she instructed. "You're an idiot."

"You called me down here to insult me?"

"No. I called you down here to tell you that I do love you. You're the only person I ever want to spend time with. When I was at that wedding, all I could think was that I wanted you there. And then when you planted the primrose bushes it was like…you knew what I needed. I loved you then. And those things you did…I…I don't understand any of it. But I can't imagine having to go through that alone. I love you in spite of what you did. I love you because of what you did. I love you, you silly boy." She stepped forward and kissed him, pulling him as close as she could, tears streaming down her face. A warm light filled her and once again, she was alone.

"Goodbye," she whispered, pressing three fingers to her lips and holding them up.

* * *

Haymitch came to check in on her a few weeks later. Her front door was unlocked, so he let himself in. A thin layer of dust covered everything in the house and she didn't answer when he called. Time, it seemed, had stopped in the old house. He climbed the stairs and creaked open her bedroom door. There, in her bed, covered in the thin blanket, was her body. Around her mouth was a light red staining. The same coloring could be found on her fingers. And on the bedside table, next to a painting he recognized from the attic, was a handful of deep purple Nightlock berries.

Haymitch glanced up. "Stupid kids," he mumbled. "Don't I get my reward? I finally did right by that boy."

A bright light filled Haymitch and after over a hundred mortal years of life, he welcomed death as an old friend.


End file.
